


Conversations with a Dead Man

by beccithenerd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28494057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccithenerd/pseuds/beccithenerd
Summary: Despite Hermione's misgivings, Harry takes a trip to Hogwarts to speak to the former bat-of-the-dungeons.‘You came all this way to talk to a dead man Potter? Should I be sending for the mind-healers at St Mungo’s?’This time, Harry had a response ready, ‘You reckoned my coming a time ago, so I wonder if you are mad as well.’Flashing his teeth in a ravenous grin, Snape stated, ‘You forget Potter that I am dead, and you are speaking to canvas. I am allowed the psychosis for that alone.’
Kudos: 10





	1. I am dead, and you are talking to canvas

This is a completed work, undergoing some heavy editing as I transfer from ffn.net over to AO3.

**Conversation with a Dead Man**

**Chapter One**  
  


As far as best friends go, Harry absolutely adored Hermione Granger-Weasley. Their years of friendship, together with Ron, had left them rather inseparable. So few people could relate to their experiences during the war, that the three of them could often just be found cocooned together. For Harry, being with Ron and Hermione brought about a certainty, a balm of safety where he could relax.

Which is why, Merlin though he loved her, Hermione was starting to test his nerves on the subject.

His announcement one evening of a short trip to Hogwarts had resulted in several weeks of arguments between the friends. At first, Hermione had merely looked up from her novel and smiled delicately, ‘That's lovely Harry, I've been meaning to have a chat with Minerva regarding some of the syllabus.’

Harry could feel his cheek twitch as he frowned. After several moments of internal debate, he decided against pushing the subject at that moment. He realised it was unusual for them, but he knew this was a journey he needed to take alone.

The week that followed, she’d dropped little hints about Hogwarts almost every day, even going so far as to ask Ron what he was going to do on their little trip.

Then, finally out of nudges, she asked when the date of the trip was so she could get it in her calendar.

‘Hermione,’ he began, twiddling his wand anxiously, ‘it’s more of a personal trip, I’d actually intended to visit alone.

Aghast, she’d shot her head up so quickly that Harry jumped. His wand hit the table and let out a spark, before he managed to snatch it from the air before it hit the ground.

‘Personal?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Harry.’

_‘Hermione.’_

‘Personal?

‘Yes, yes alright, that’s a stupid way of phrasing it.’

‘Quite.’ He could see a glint in her eyes, she wasn’t impressed. ‘Are you keeping secrets from us? It’s not your scar---’

‘No, Hermione, it still doesn’t hurt, everything is fine. I just… look, I want to talk to Snape.’

‘Professor Snape, Harry--- hang on, what? You want to talk to him?’

‘Actually,’ Harry grinned, ‘I’m fairly certain his last official title was Headmaster.’

Harry pulled out a chair and eased into it.

‘I never showed you the memories, what he showed me that made me realise, and I never got the chance to thank him.’

This time, he could see how strained her smile was. ‘Harry, he’s dead.’

‘Really? Oh well that’s it then, nothing to be done. If only the wizarding world had these talking portrait things…’

‘But it’s not the same.’

‘No. It’s not.’ He looked up, and clenched and released his hand. ‘I know it’s not him, Hermione, but I still need to go.’

‘And there is no other reason, this isn’t some elaborate rouse to go sneak into the chamber of secrets, or…’

‘I’m going to stay for a few days, and chat with him when McGonagall has time to let me have the office.’

‘Why a few days?’

At this, he laughed. ‘Well, it _is_ Snape, I reckon he’ll probably try and have me removed from the castle, or give me detention, before I can get him to actually have a conversation with me.’

‘And, you don’t need me?’

‘I… Hermione, it’s not that I don’t need you, I think it’s clear by now that without you I would have died from a jinxed broom a very long time ago. I… just… this is something I need to do, for myself.’

As he leaned back in the chair, he watched his second oldest friend struggle with herself, wanting to help, as she always had. After a moment, she seemed to regain her thought and reached out for his hand across the table.

‘Good luck.’

When the day came to revisit the castle, Harry decided to request permission to use the floo, figuring he could explore the grounds whilst the students were in classes.

Just after nine, he grabbed a handful of the powder from the little Black family heirloom Kreature had found, and shouted, ‘Hogwarts, Headmistresses Office.’

The familiar rush of flames and smoke battered him until he found himself coughing plumes of ash over the large rug in front of Professor McGonagall’s fireplace. Getting to his feet and dusting his knees, Harry looked up. It was the same, but at the same time, so different. The office glowed from the reflections of some of Dumbledore’s old trinkets, the Sherbet Lemon dish was gone and instead a large clay biscuit tin stood in its place. His eyes slowed and came to rest on two frames, one, ornate with intricate gold leaf, and the other, a deep ebony wood that’s only remarkable feature was the neat silver plaque at the bottom.

The portrait-Dumbledore sat in his chair, the same one that Harry had taken a seat opposite, gently snoozing, with his head lolled into one of the wings and a restful smile on his face.

Harry grinned and turned his attention to the frame of the man he had come to see. The portrait figure was sat on one of the darker wingbacks that were found in the back ailses of the library, surrounded by shelves of books, and a thick potions volume held open with his spidery fingers.

As Harry gazed at these two men, whisperings broke out among the other portraits and Harry felt the need to silence them, ‘Some quiet, please,’ and then addressing the latest headmaster, whose nose was now firmly hidden within his text, ‘I am come, Professor Snape.’

Looking up from his book and rolling his eyes, Snape barked a laugh that Harry had thought impossible; ‘Of course you have come, foolish boy. I am surprised to find it took you so long to find the courage to seek me out.’

Ah. So he was to be insulted as he always was. He should have known that even in death, Severus Snape could not be affable. Reading the look on Harry's face, Snape smirked, ‘Mr Potter, I held a rather well-known distaste for you during my life, I find it impertinently presumptuous of you to even entertain the thought of some amiable acquaintance between us now that I am deceased.’

Harry conceded the point, ‘Right, of course; well, I am here now; and if it poses no objections from yourself, I intend to speak to you over the next few days.’

A snort of laughter, and Harry felt himself yet again mocked by the man who had become the bane of his adolescence. ‘You came all this way to talk to a dead man Potter? Should I be sending for the mind-healers at St Mungo’s?’

This time, Harry had a response ready, ‘You reckoned my coming a time ago, so I wonder if you are mad as well.’

Flashing his teeth in a ravenous grin, Snape stated, ‘You forget Potter that I am dead, and you are speaking to canvas. I am allowed the psychosis for that alone.’

Content that on his return his questions would be answered, Harry rose from the chair and bade the portraits goodnight, promising his return later that evening. As he closed the door he heard Snape speak, ‘I cannot see why Minerva allowed it Albus, I am to be given large doses of Potter over the next couple of days; it will be the death of me I quite assure you.’


	2. I got an E in potions

**Conversations with a Dead Man**   
  
**Chapter Two**

As the night sky enveloped the castle, Harry once again made the long trip up to the Headmistresses office. This time he came a little more prepared, and made a little show of opening, decanting, and pouring himself a glass of his favourite red, a Sangiovese he’d discovered at a ministry gala. After several minutes of the performance, Harry finally took his seat opposite the great desk, and swirled the glass of wine contemplatively.

An exasperated voice came from the portrait of Severus Snape, ‘You can turn that glass many a time in your own quarters Mr Potter, however you have come on the pretence of speaking to me and I would ask that you to leave immediately if you have no intent of doing so.’

Looking up, Harry nodded and sipped the wine; closing his eyes in pause and taking a breath, ‘Alright Professor, we’ll get things started, shall we?’  
Silently, and wandless, Harry conjured a coaster, set down the glass, before flashing his teeth in a grin. ‘When I took my owls, I got an E for Potions.’

Snape frowned, evidently confused at the route the conversation was taking. ‘What?’

‘I said, Professor…’

Snape interrupted sharply. ‘I heard you.’

Harry tilted his head in a simper, ‘How was it possible that I received an E in my Potions OWL, when I received no higher than a T in every essay you assigned?’

Harry could see the sides of the portrait-Snapes mouth twitching.

‘How should I know, Potter? You were always abysmal in my lessons.’

‘May I tell you how Professor?’

‘Indulge me, Potter.’

Harry sat forward, and gestured his hands wide, ‘It was you.’

Snape’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to respond, ‘I certainly…’

Harry waved his hand and as he had always done in class, spoke over his professor. ‘You wrote the paper.’

Snape was silent. Harry took this as his leave to continue.

‘You wrote the highest mark question on Polyjuice, a potion you were well aware I had participated in brewing. By giving the correct answer to that question I attained nearly a fifth of the marks on the paper. I found the paper difficult, obviously I was never going to be a potions prodigy, however most of the questions were on subjects I could remember well because of their coinciding with momentous occasions. You ensured that I would pass.’

Harry paused to let his words sink in, and took a measured gulp of the wine. When he spoke again, it was softly.

‘Every question on that paper made reference to a lesson I could remember, stealing the Polyjuice ingredients was the lesson Goyles potion was exploded- the effects of which everyone could remember easily. Other questions were based on lessons where I would receive a detention or a particularly cruel remark. It was all you.’

For a portrait, Snape was looking awfully flushed, but he managed a smirk as he sneered his response. ‘Potter, you attained so many detentions throughout your school career I cannot possibly remember the circumstance of them, let alone what I was teaching at the time.’

In a small but firm voice Harry spoke, ‘The pensieve, that's how you did it, I am sure.’

Snapes lips quivered.

Harry continued, ‘And to think all of that for a pupil you so heavily despised.’

Despite the silence, Snape’s eyes had begun to flash dangerously. Harry pressed on with his final coup de grace.

‘All for the woman you have loved since your childhood.’

Snape was frozen. For a moment Harry wondered if he’d somehow broken the portrait. After a minute or two, Snape let out a low whistle and nodded softly.

‘Your mother was my first friend, my fiercest friend. I loved her as any boy would love the first girl who showed him kindness. When she died, the world collapsed at my feet. It took a long time for me to recover.’

Harry nodded slowly, not wanting to break the quiet truce that seemed to be forming.

‘I actually… all of this was leading somewhere. I was hoping that if I was good enough to achieve an E in potions, that I might be competent enough to pick your brain on a potions topic, and hopefully, understand your answer.’

It was Snape’s turn to tilt his head and grin. ‘You came all this way to ask me a potions question?’

‘As strange as it sounds, it is one of my main reasons for visiting.’

‘And the question…?’

‘’I have been considering the matter for months now, and realised it was only you I could ask, and trust with the answer. Do you remember my first ever potions lesson, Professor? I was wondering… can you really bottle fame?’

With caution toning his voice, Snape answered, II do not lie to my students, Potter; it is possible to bottle fame. I fail to see how this holds any relevance though, for surely the prodigy that is Miss Granger could have answered such a question.’

‘It’s Granger-Weasley now, actually,’ Harry smiled, ‘and I haven’t asked her because she would argue with me about my intentions. I just want a way to bottle the fame, diminish it, hide it away for a time. I just want to live my life for a while, as just Harry. I just wanted to bottle the boy who lived, not forever, just to…. take a break.’

‘I see, you are tired with the attentions that your hero status brings?’

Sheepishly, Harry agreed. ‘It’s just so constant, I can’t seem to take a step in Diagon Alley without being thanked, I understand people feel they need to say these things to me, I just wish I could have some time to myself. Is that selfish?’

‘You don’t think you’ve earned a little peace?’

‘I…’

‘There is a potion that could help you.’

Harry sat up, his jaw dropping.

‘You are familiar with the _Muffliato_ charm, I think?’

‘Yes… I… well you know how I learned that one.’

‘It may be a strange notion, Mr Potter, but this time, you won’t need to steal a book in order to learn from me. This time, you simply need to borrow a book.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. I bequeathed my collection to the Hogwarts archives, you can ask Madam Pince for my handwritten journals, the instructions for the potion is in there. It works in a similar manner to the _Muffliato_ charm. You’ll still be there, but your fame will be bottled. People will know who you are, and what you did, but won’t think to bother you for it.’

Harry massaged his jaw, having realised it had been open for a few minutes.

‘And it really works?’

‘So long as you don’t take it upon yourself to complete another act of Gryffindor stupidity that makes you even more famous, it will work.’

‘Thank you. I… I confess I didn’t expect an answer, let alone a solution.’

‘As the war proved, Mr Potter, we are all full of surprises.’

An awkward silence followed. Harry thought they were both contemplating what to say next, neither wanting to be the first to break the quiet.

Taking a deep gulp, Harry grimaced, ‘And did mum…. did she know…what you did? That everything you did was for her, that you…. loved her?’

Looking up Snape chuckled bitterly, ‘Oh she knew, even if she didn't let on she knew. Everyone knew. It was the most ridiculously obvious thing. Your father hated it dreadfully, he would demand Lily break off all connections with me; shout to the school that I, Severus Snape was in love with the muggle-born Gryffindor….’

‘It's okay, you know. I don't mind that you…you were in love with her… are in love with her," Harry amended, pausing before continuing, "Do you still…still…?’

‘I'm dead Potter,’ was the cold reply, ‘but when I was alive as you knew me,’ a gentle voice swallowed, and whispered, ‘more so than ever.’

Harry spoke thickly, ‘I thought so, when you died…when I looked at you, when you looked at me…you looked at mum, you saw mum, her eyes.’

A glint appeared in his eyes, and Snape replied, ‘I accepted Lily's death a long time ago Potter, I saw your eyes when I died. I saw comfort in the fact that I knew you would bring about the death of the dark lord, in your eyes Potter, I saw Lily avenged. I could rest.’

When Harry spoke, he could hear the shiver in his voice. ‘Thank you, Professor.’

The odd pair sat in quiet contemplation for a short time after, Harry taking to sipping the remnants of his glass of wine, and Snape gazing to something unseen out of the frame.

Shakily, Harry stood, recorking the bottle and shrinking it to carry with him. Before he left, he took one final glance at the portrait.

Snape’s head was turned towards him, his face cold and masked, but his eyes struggling to focus.

‘Thank you, Harry.’

**FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. This was quite a fun little exercise to take some of my previous work, edit and update it. I decided to forego the last chapter as I realised it didn't really add anything to the story, and I quite liked the fragile peace I'd created here. I hope you enjoy this, and I will definitely be importing some of my other works over, and hopefully- finishing them!


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